Truth in Punishment
by BuddhaBooty
Summary: They say the beginning is a good place to start, I wouldn’t know, I’ve never written more than reports. I don’t like reports, there's no soul in them. I like writing with a soul. It holds truth that few recognize. For me, it hold the truth of punishment.
1. Ch 1: Cattle Herder

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

Where to start?

They say the beginning is a good place, I wouldn't know, I've never written more than basic reports. I don't like reports, there's no soul in them. I like writing with a soul. I also like people with souls, those who aren't what they appear, who are, in and of themselves, conundrums that, at first glance, would seem impossible to solve.

In retrospect, that's probably why I fell for him.

But I digress; I'll start at the beginning.

I don't remember much of my early days. My name is one that was lost to time, and I may never recover it, though I do not grieve. I was a simple child from a simple family who could only afford the price of books that were borrowed, never owned. Did that stop me? Never. I learned and I read and as I read more, I learned more, spoke less, listened to how people spoke to deceive themselves of the truth, and grew to understand that we all need someone to blame.

I didn't want to be like them, blaming everything on everyone without due trial or fairness. I wanted to protect that right to honesty. I wanted to be a politician as they should be, not are.

I had heard, from book to book, of certain arts that were made to do just that, protecting the weak from the powerful, and made my decision to run away and learn them. It was, I do not deny, my own rashness that left me half starved and broken hearted in the snowy mountains of Mongolia, dying even as my eyes closed.

When I opened them, it was warm. I did not and do not know how he found me, but he did, and I lived.

When the initial shock that I was still alive wore off, I began asking questions of my savior, who, at the time, I did not recognize. He answered them diligently and honestly, and I decided I liked him, for he seemed a man with little to hide. Men with little to hide were men who could be trusted.

When he asked me why I had left home, I told him it was to look for a teacher of truth. He smiled at me, an all-knowing smile that seemed to permeate my small, tired form with unforgettable joy, and replied that he would teach me.

"Little Vachir," he spoke, renaming me as a cattle herder. "I will teach you truth, for you are ready to learn it."

"And who are you?" I asked, curiosity my second nature.

"I," he replied, smile unfaltering even in the dim lighting of the temple. "am Master Flying Rhino."


	2. Ch 2: Master Vachir

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

So you've decided that I should continue? Those of you, who so brutally ridiculed me, now, express an interest in learning of my past? Well, I won't stop you, only hope that your intentions are pure.

I had read, many times, of Master Flying Rhino and his expeditions and accomplishments, and expressed no small amount of interest in hearing all and any story I could manage to elicit from him of his past. I read, reread, and analyzed every scroll in the temple, practiced until my bones sheared in exhaustion, then went to sleep, only to repeat the process the next day, day after day, for bordering on fifteen years.

Of course, I wasn't alone.

Master Flying Rhino had a thousand other students, who eventually came to be known as the Anvil of Heaven. I was simply the most dedicated, being the only one of the group to give up everything, run away from my life, in a search for truth, for my inner peace.

I was his protégé.

I tell you this now so that you realize I understand where Tai Lung was coming from and why he did what he did. I know what it is like to work so hard, to do everything you are told, and still to be denied what you feel you deserve. That was, more likely than not, why Master Oogway chose me as the leader of Chor Gom prison. He hoped I would be able to redeem the felon.

But, again, I am getting ahead of myself.

It was late in my fifteenth year as Vachir when he came. He was clad in crimson and cadmium and his feathers shimmered in the light of the early morning sun. I had read of angels in many of the books and scrolls of the temple. I was certain, however cliché it sounds, that he was one.

Now, before I continue, I should tell you of the temple's views on love. There are several basic principles that simmer down to this; if it feels good, it is natural; if you love them, nothing else matters; love does not have to be reserved for a set number of persons; and, above all else, when and if you do find love, pursue it with all your heart, mind, and body.

As I gazed upon him, those teachings echoed in my mind, along with a single, desperate desire to please him. Whether that meant conquering the world or leaving my temple life, or learning the secrets of the Universe, I did not care, for him, I would have, and still would, to this day, though, as many of you are aware, I no longer exist. This would not hinder me.

I love him.

I realize many of you would have said 'loved', and those of you who are 'grammar Nazis' can feel yourselves pressing that review button to comment on this atrocity. Strangely enough, you are the same ones who seek any and all opportunities to bring me down, but before you do, realize that 'loved' insinuates a stopping point. My love for him has no end; it is as infinite as the circle you study so painstakingly in geometry.

Cautiously, oh so cautiously, for I was approaching a heavenly being whom I could easily frighten off, I crept up to him, keeping my voice low and supple as possible as I inquired, "May I help you?"

He squawked, a beautiful, harmonious sound, and spun on his heel to face me, giving me full view of his indescribable features.

"Um, can you direct me to a Master Vachir?"

That voice! By the gods, as it said my name, so respectfully, so submissively, so eloquently, that voice rang the chimes of heaven.

"No formalities, please, you are a guest," I explained, secretly praying with every bit of religious power I held that he would laugh, call me friend, and speak my name again.

"Thank you, M- Vachir," he stuttered, nervously glancing anywhere but up at me.

Of course I noticed his hesitance and asked, as gently as I could, "What is your name?"

The monosyllabic reply reverberated within my mind like the tingling of tiny bells, and it is one name I shall never forget.

"My name is Zeng."


	3. Ch 3: Bye Bye, Beautiful

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

You persist? I am, admittedly, impressed. Hopefully your intentions are as pure as I now perceive them to be. I'm beginning to believe they are.

As soon as I heard his name, I knew I had to have him. Zeng was the weak being, frightened and pure, that I knew I had been training for so long to protect, to exist for. He stood before me, clad in the colors of royalty and luck, and all I had to do was reach out to him.

"Zeng," I repeated, adoring how the name formed upon my lips, the single, short, sweet syllable leaving the faintest tingle drawing itself along my lips. "a good, elegant name. Pleasure to meet you, Zeng, but what brings you to cold Mongolia?"

He chuckled lightly as the tinkling of bells as he answered, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Grand Master Oogway has sent for your help."

Grand Master Oogway? I could barely believe my ears. The creator of Kung Fu wished for my help, and had sent this beautiful, heavenly being to relay the message. I could feel the blush that crept onto my face burn my cheeks with a passionate flame.

"Vachir, he requests you take the Anvil of Heaven and carve into the mountain's side a prison strong enough to hold Tai Lung captive. Are you up to it?" he questioned softly, touching my hoof with a feathered wing.

By the gods above, I felt all the blood in my body race to my cheeks as I realized I was being touched by an angel. His nervous smile and quite nature filled me with such a desire to protect him, to hold him close and never let go, to hide him away deep within the mountains, just he and myself, and to never let him out for fear the light of day could sear his feathers, the air cause him chill, the ground scrape his feet.

Now is the time you begin to think of me as mad. I realize you are becoming concerned for the beautiful goose that stood before me, and perhaps you feel there is good reason, too, but I assured you before that I was not culpable of those depraved acts you so often depict me performing, and I am not. Please, do not jump to the conclusion before you have read the story.

I wasn't sure what exactly I said, and I still am not completely certain what happened, but the next thing I knew, my lips were against a smooth beak, tongue delving into every nuance and crevice of his perfect mouth, a moan resonating within my mouth that was not my own.

And then it was over. The angel, Zeng, had pulled back, his expression fearful, nervous, as he breathed, "I-I'm sorry, I can't."

And like that that, he was gone.


	4. Ch 4: File Not Found

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

I have read what you all have commented, and I agree that my actions were rash. I did not understand the angel, nor did he know me. It was simply a folly hope that we could fall in love right then and there.

Now I know better.

Then, I had hope.

I recalled what he had asked of me, the only thing that had been asked of me, and vowed to build a prison the likes of which the world had yet to see. I spent days on end designing every crevice, every pulley, and every crossbow, down to the last, minute detail. My friends, the Anvil, simply thought it was out of respect for Grand Master Oogway, and did as they were told. I worked out the schematics for every last device that would hold the leopard in place, from a bottomless pit (nearly bottomless, I set up poisonous pikes at around two hundred feet down) as a mote around the platform upon which Tai Lung would stand, two, giant boulders weighing down his arms, held by cerametallic chains made of a mixture between ceramics (obviously), titanium, a newly discovered metal, and steel. All of this, everything I did, it was all for him.

Zeng.

A year later, the prison was completed, and we were told to report this to Grand Master Oogway.

That night, I was unable to sleep, so excited to see Zeng again that I could hardly blink.

The next morning, I was pleasantly surprised.

Now, to be fair, it was more like floored. Grand Master Oogway, Master Shifu, and, most importantly, Zeng, had traveled with Tai Lung all the way to us. I, of course, wasted no time in requesting to speak with Zeng. Grand Master Oogway agreed, smiling in a way that I had always envisioned Buddha would look, and the small goose followed me out of the room.

Once we were far enough away, I wasted no time in falling to my knees and begging forgiveness from the feathered beauty. I admit to feeling no shame pleading his favor, and, despite what you may think, were he to have asked me to stop, I would have.

But he didn't.

No, instead of telling me to stop, he froze, his eyes seeming to search mine, though what they were searching for I am not certain. We remained that way, him looking deep into my soul for some answer to a question only he knew, for a time I cannot recall, but it felt not nearly long enough.

He must not have found it, though, for in the next moment he had taken of and was flying away from me, careening madly through the air in a frenzied escape.

My heart and knees sank simultaneously as I fell to my paws on the floor, my spirit continuing the descent for me to far beyond the bottom of the temple, but just as I thought I would never have reason to love again, I heard him call out, "Not here! Not now! Meet me in your prison, after Tai Lung has been placed there!"

A smile crept across my face as I stood.

Maybe he had found it, after all.


	5. Ch 5: Not Enough

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

I am noticing some of you have become rather dubious about my motives and what actions they will lead to, and I will endure these accusations, for you will see that not only am I completely sane, I am actually a rather decent soul.

Now, to continue, I was nothing short of ecstatic when the leopard was placed in his hold. The elder tortoise praised my work, but I barely heard him until he turned, smiling, to me, and asked the others to leave.

"I noticed you have taken a liking to one of the messengers. May I ask why?" he inquired. I had no problems explaining in every bit of detail I could muster why Zeng was so perfect and pure and beautifully helpless.

"Well, if you are going to pursue him, you should know that others' opinions may act as a major barrier in your relationship, but if you truly love him, I am certain you will find a way around this. Good luck, young Vachir," he warned, and I nodded, thanking him for the information.

That night, I waited into the small morning hours, my faith in the messenger never once faltering. The rustle of flapping wings was my reward as he clumsily landed, panting, at my feet. Kneeling, I lifted him gently to stand, feeling subtle yet defined muscles flex within my grip.

"You came," I breathed, hardly believing he was real, that immaculate vision of perfection, wreathed in a crescendo of light, growing brighter as it neared him, shimmering off dainty feathers only to reflect upon the floor of the prison I had built him.

"I said I would, didn't I?" he replied, harmonious vocal chords playing against my senses until all I could do was nod in agreement.

"I guess I should apologize for earlier. I hadn't meant to fly off like that, I was just startled," admitted Zeng, and my mind screamed for me to reassure him.

I fell to my knees to do just that, telling him that it was alright, it was my fault for behaving so gruffly, and begging his forgiveness.

"Of course I forgive you, Master Vachir," he assured, my heart fluttering within my chest at speeds I was unaware were physically possible.

"You do?" I questioned, praying he would speak again, and he did, the sound like the sweetest liquor to a lowly peasant, indulging my ears in a sense too pure to be real.

"Of course I do," he spoke, laughter nervous and forced. Was he afraid of me? Why? What had I done to provoke this fear?

Whatever it was, I was determined to set it right, because fear did not suit his ethereal features. A being like him was made to be cherished by all, and never to fear. A being like his was a god in disguise.

"So," he began, looking around the building as I swelled with pride. He was admiring my work! "did you want to talk to me about something?"

Oh! I had nearly forgotten what my purpose there had been!

Yes, even the ruthless, cruel, angry Vachir can be a forgetful person. It's hard to believe, right?

Sighing, I nodded and grasped his wings within my own paws, feeling him trembling ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. I looked at the wall behind him, too nervous to risk his eyes, those cerulean pools in which I nearly drowned whenever I gazed into them.

"Zeng," I began, my hands steady, my eyes, fixated upon the wall just past his head, my posture rigid, as I crouched before him. "I know I am not from a wealthy family. I have little I can offer you. But what I can offer is my undying dedication and protection from the cold world. Please, accept me. I lo-"

I was cut off by his startled gasp. Maybe he hadn't thought of love. Maybe he wasn't ready for my confessions. Maybe the whole ordeal had been a folly hope right from the start.

Whatever the reason was, in the next moment, he was weeping bitterly before me, wings pulled from my paws as a metaphorical rug from beneath my feet.

"No, Vachir," he sobbed, though why he cried, I was not certain. "I don't love you. I don't want you. Good bye."

And he flew away.

I'm not sure how long I knelt there, eyes wide, breath shallow, trembling lightly as I tried, in vain, to discern what had happened, but the next thing I knew, one of my men, my second in command, tapped my shoulder to ask me what was wrong.

Again, that time is a blur, but I know that I awoke, several days later, to the concerned faces of my closest friends and the dull decorum of my room. At the time I had built it, it seemed so beautiful. I saw every color, every shadow, multiplied in beauty as I imagined Zeng's feathers against them.

When he left, so did the world's beauty.

I couldn't wrap my mind around it, Zeng, pure, defenseless, gentle Zeng, had left me. Though, in all honesty, it's not really possible to leave someone you were never with. That didn't even occur to me. All I could think of, all I could dream of, all I could breathe was him.

And that's how I stayed.

For years, I stayed there in my prison, laughing bitterly at the irony that the prison I had built was my own containment. I grew distant from my men, banned all decorum from the prison walls, ignored my prisoner, Tai Lung, whenever possible, and thought of how Zeng and I could have been.

I was so certain, back then, of why he had cried. Zeng had cried because he hadn't recognized his feelings. He had wanted to stay, and sooner or later he would figure it out that I was who he wanted. Those had been sorrowful tears at the thought of leaving, confused tears at the thought of staying, angry tears at the words he'd spoken, and joyful tears at my admission. I knew, any day, he would have come flying through the cedar doors. I had chosen cedar because I remembered reading the wood's aroma was good for geese. It made them feel at home, as though they were in a warm forest in summer, no matter where they really were.

Every day I would pray for his return, that he would come back and tell me he was wrong, that he was sorry, and that he did love me. Every night I dreamed none of this had ever happened, and we lived together on a farm, two or three adopted children running around, learning Kung Fu and playing tag.

And, in the silence of sleepless nights, my anger fermented.

It took nearly twelve years for me to realize that he wasn't coming back. It took me twelve years for my love of him to change to hatred of myself. It took twelve years for me to give up.

And once I had, I realized it was his fault. It was his fault I was stuck in that damned prison I had built. It was his fault I saw no beauty, only reflections of myself, my mistakes. It was his fault I no longer felt joy, relief, excitement, or love. It was that day that I had died, and time had changed my love into a twisted husk, a sickly reminder of what pain was. It was his entire fault.

And I hated him for it.

--

Okay, so I've been sick for a while and unable to update, but no more! I'm all better and ready and revving to listen to Vachir's story, and tell it to you! And for those of you who still think I"m writing this, I'm not. Vachir's damn gost won't leave me alone for five minutes! It's annoying when you've got to pee or something, but, yeah, sorry for the delay in updates. Flus are not fun.


	6. Ch 6: Joining the Game

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

Also, Vachir has asked that this chapter be dedicated to the most loyal reviewer, FalconMage. He extends his deepest gratitude to you.

--

The years flew by, barely perceived by my rage-fueled madness. Twelve years faded into fifteen. Fifteen dissolved into nineteen, and it finally became too much.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I was eaten alive, consumed and empty, my goals dissipated like fog before the sun, and I knew I had become that which, for so long, I had sought to end. I had become the very deceit that I had witnessed as a child, the very one I had realized lead to blame, lead to hatred.

I had joined the blame game.

The revelation hurt, more than I want to acknowledge, but you must realize that I had spent countless nights weeping and praying my Zeng would come back. I stood there, on the eve before the twentieth anniversary of Chor Gom's completion, and finally turned to face the door of my room. Slowly, as a glacier treads the tundra, as a celestial body circuits the Universe, I opened the great, cedar door. The smell of the once-beautiful prison now seemed something akin to the rot of a corpse. I recalled feeding the prisoner recently, so I was certain it wasn't him.

Creeping down to the platform that would take me to Tai Lung, I signaled them to let me down. The creak of old chains, rusted from age and lack of maintenance, was the sound of four words, repeated again and again, a lasting testament to the curse spoken in this prison, my hell, so many years ago.

Upon arriving at his platform, I stepped forward, crossing the bridge I remembered so joyfully constructing when I was happy, when the world was good.

I approached the felon and sat before him, staring at his bowed head until, after what seemed like hours, he spoke.

"To what do I owe this visit, Commander?"

His voice was as sinister as I had imagined it would be, but I needed to hear him, I needed to talk with him. I needed answers.

"Do you remember your rejection?" I asked, knowing the answer even as the words left my chapped lips in a puff of breath that was warmer than I had felt in years.

He growled as he answered, voice hushed, "I will never forget."

I nodded my head. I understood him, probably better than anyone. The next words from my mouth were spoken before my mind had a chance to censor them.

"So do I."

His head shot up as he snarled, pearly teeth glinting the same pure rage as his eyes, "How could you understand? What is the worst life has done to you? You didn't get the uniforms you had hoped for? Or your beer rations are running low? What is it that the great Commander Vachir has aspired for that was denied him?"

I simply sat there, listening to his hate-fueled tirade, hearing my own anger and disappointment in his spiteful words. I let him cool for a moment. I knew he needed it, as did I. Finally, he sighed and I knew it was time to talk.

"Do you see this prison? Do you remember how it looked when you first came here? The embroidered tapestries that hung overhead? The incense that constantly burned? There was a reason for all of that. I was trying to prove myself. It wasn't for honor or glory, but rather for the love of a goose. A beautiful, treacherous goose by the name of Zeng," I breathed, listening to the gasp as I finished, and the ridiculing laughter once I was done.

That was, apparently, all my story was worth.

"So _you're_ the rhinoceros in Oogway's vision! And here I'd thought it was one of your men!" he guffawed and I glared, wishing it could strike him dead where he stood.

"What are you talking about?" I inquired.

These days, I almost wished I hadn't.

The felon told me of the prophecy, explaining that it was probably why the tortoise had chosen me to Tai Lung's prison keeper. The prophecy stated that a rhino would strive beyond excellence in an attempt at justice, only to be stricken down by a goose chase that would one day be realized.

"He probably thought the chase had already happened!" guffawed the leopard, and I stood, growling at the creator of Kung Fu, though he was many miles away, for tricking me into that hell hole. He had known, dammit! He had known that I was destined to fail, and still he encouraged me to pursue the goose! He encouraged me to make a fool of myself!

The rage I felt in that moment has no words, there is no way to convey the absolute loathing I felt for every green-skinned creature that ever crawled upon this Earth. I apologize for this, but English is not a large enough language. I doubt that there is one.

And then the wretch spoke again, his words as the arrows, long and deadly, that sat ready and waiting in the crossbows overhead.

"If I ever see him, I'll be sure to let him know just how much it hurts. And it does, doesn't it, Vachir? I'll kill him, and you will be vindicated. And then, I'll kill you, and I will be vindicated. And then I'll become the Dragon Warrior and name a nice little corner of China after you. I'll call it Slothy Rhino. What do you think?" he purred, my blood boiling even as the words dripped from his lips and onto my ears like liquid nitrogen, freezing my body in icy terror.

Hate Zeng, and let him die. Love Zeng, and let myself become a damned husk of a being that once was.

A rattle of a chain brought my attention back to the world around me and I noted, with no small amount of relief, that the killer in question was chained up in an inescapable prison.

Spinning on my heels, I fled the platform, the deranged laughter of the convict echoing in my fear-stricken heart.


	7. Ch 7: Before My Storm

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

I stood at the front of the mess hall, impatiently awaiting the messenger from the Jade Palace. I had no idea who it would be, and while part of me wished it would be my Zeng, another prayed it wouldn't be, so I would not have to face my fears of rejection a second time. Once was enough for me.

The red doors slammed open and my heart nearly stopped beating.

The ivory wings, the electric blue eyes, the strange hat…

It was Zeng.

"Sir," one of my men spat with the utmost disdain and I wondered, vaguely, if he, too, had been denied by the bird. "Zeng, here, has brought a message from the Jade Palace!"

Our eyes met and, for a split second, I could have sworn I saw a wavering, weak apology hanging onto his lips for dear life, wanting to leap to my ears, and yet it was afraid it would not be heard.

And then it was gone.

I listened to him speak the requests of Master Shifu with barely contained anger, a silent agreement passing between us that the events of the past would not be spoken of before my men, and when he was finished speaking, I spat, "Double the guards? Your prison may not be adequate?"

You must realize, now, where I was coming from. I had spent a year building and perfecting the most powerful, inescapable prison ever known to Asia, and there was the one it was built for, telling me it wasn't good enough. Never mind that the words were not his own, that he was simply the messenger, it was his monument, carved in the eternal mountains of Mongolia, and it wasn't good enough!

"What?" I shouted, watching the small goose cower in fear of my men and me. It was a bittersweet moment, his fear stirring emotions I hadn't felt in so long. I wanted to reach out to him, assure him that everything was alright, he didn't need to fear. I wouldn't hurt him. Yet, at the same time, I wanted to scream, 'See? Do you see what you've done? All of this, everything I did, it was all for you! Everything for you, and it's not enough? Why? What must I do to please you?'

"Well, I don't think that… Master Shifu does," he squeaked, cowering away from us, shivering in fear.

My better nature got a hold of me before I could wrap my hands around his neck for all the pain he'd caused me, and instead remembered I'd never really shown him the prison. The show off in me decided then was the perfect time, and I led him out of the room.

I watched Zeng look around, dazed, like a young child seeing a palace for the first time, and it warmed my ice-ridden heart. I wasn't sure what I should say, and so I spoke of the prison.

"One way in, one way out, one thousand guards, and one prisoner," I bragged, chest puffing out in pride as Zeng's eyes widened in shock. "Impressive, isn't it?" I asked, slapping him hard on the back.

He stumbled forward, a small gasp escaping his beak before he whispered, nodding vigorously, "_Very_ impressive. Very, very impressive."

I smiled, leading him down into the bowels of Chor Gom. I wanted to show him how much I had done for him, how much I loved him, and how much he had hurt me.

"Take us down, boys!" I shouted, and the elevator we were in descended to Tai Lung's level.

We reached the floor, the sound of the wood door smacking stone echoing in the silence of my hell. Zeng was nervous, and, recalling what Tai Lung had promised to do, I felt he had reason, but I reassured him nonetheless, and we strode up to the bound snow leopard.

"Hey, tough guy!" I shouted, watching Zeng shiver. How I wished to scream, to cry, to shout at him, 'What more can I do? What must I do to make you love me?'

I contained myself, though, as I walked around the felon, telling him of the Dragon Warrior as Zeng hissed not to make him mad.

I told the goose there was nothing to worry about, he was perfectly harmless.

Big mistake.

I saw a glint in the snow leopard's eyes as though a fire had been light deep within him, and was searching for a way to escape. His tail twitched toward Zeng and I brought my foot down on it, a reminder that he was not in charge of the prison, I was.

Zeng gasped and I knew he was frightened, so I made something up, mocking the feline warrior with cooed words.

"Aww, did I step on the wittie kitty's tail?" I taunted.

I received no response, and decided it was a good idea to get out of there as an indescribable, unexplainable fear coated my bones in its chilling grasp.

I ushered Zeng away from the convict and back into the elevator. The fear had not gone away, but instead changed to the light-headed sensation when you stand on the edge of somewhere very, very high and look down.

It was the calm before the storm.


	8. Ch 8: My Storm

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

--

We reached the third level of Chor Gom when I heard shouting from below. Glancing down, I was met with an impossible sight: Tai Lung had escaped his bindings.

Zeng made to leave, but I grabbed him, recalling Tai Lung's promise. So long as he was near me, I could protect him.

Hurt him, kill him, betray him.

My mind was a whirlpool of emotions, my tainted love for the goose in my hand making me experience lust and disdain, loving the feel of his feathers while loathing the sound of his voice. I couldn't decide whether I loved or hated him, but at the moment, it didn't matter.

Either way, it was my sworn and sacred duty to protect him.

I shouted for the crossbows. I watched in exasperation as those were rendered useless to me and the leopard used them to his advantage. I ordered the archers to fire. Fat lot of good that did. He was coming for Zeng, for me, and there was no way to stop him.

I grabbed Zeng, signaled the Anvil, and we ran for the exit.

Whose brilliant idea was it to have only one, anyway?

Of course, I later would laugh at the irony that my brilliant design was ultimately my downfall.

We reached the bridge and crossed single file, racing to the other side. I had my second-in-command, my best archer, prepare to light the explosives, and I waited, Zeng by my side, for the inevitable arrival of Tai Lung.

He came.

There was an electric tension in the air. He roared and so did I. Zeng merely squawked.

The leopard began bounding across the bridge, but I ordered it destroyed and it was. Silently, I mourned its destruction. What most didn't realize was that I had carved, in my own time, Zeng's gentle face into the bottom of the bridge. In that moment, I realized, they never would know.

That wasn't my concern at that moment, though, as Tai Lung leapt up and up, higher and higher until he reached the explosives. He ripped them from the stalactite and spun around, shouting as he fell toward us.

Zeng asked if we could run.

I weakly replied, "Yes."

I tore off my chest armor, it bearing a striking resemblance to an apron, and covered Zeng with it in a final, desperate show of my undying love for him.

Then, as he gave me one last look that clearly read, 'I'll be back for you,' the world dissolved in a blast of unbearably hot agony.


	9. Ch 9: My Punishment

Truth in Punishment

By: PointyEdgesofaSign

A/N: I own nothing. Done to sedate Vachir and his wish that the truth be told. I did not write this, I merely was the conduit for his words. Review if you think he should continue, and please say more than just 'yes' or 'no'.

I hope you all enjoyed this, and Vachir would like to thank, personally, FalconMage, who loyally reviewed, albeit skeptically at times, every update he forced me to post. Thank you to all who read this and took it to heart, Vachir is appreciative. And thank you to all who reconsidered their views of the Rhino Master. I appreciate that.

--

The place around me was desolate. It was devoid of trees, grass, or any other form of life for that matter. It was so cold that my breath should have formed puffs of condensation in the air. The fact that it didn't bothered me, but when I tried to complain, the words refused to form.

The ground fell without me, leaving me floating in a nightmarish blackness. I couldn't see anything, not even myself. And then he came.

Grand Master Oogway.

He floated before me in a ghostly light, smiling in a way I could read as sad. I didn't care, I hated him. I tried to yell, to kick, punch, scream, or maim him, but nothing happened.

"The prophecy will be fulfilled," his voice echoed, and I wondered what he meant, but the next thing I knew I was awakening to the sound of flapping wings quickly approaching me.

A glance around confirmed my greatest fears. All my men were dead, and if the pain in my chest, diaphragm, and stomach were anything to go by, I wasn't far behind. I wondered if the tortoise had been nothing but a figment of my hazy imagination.

In all honesty, I'm still not certain he wasn't.

The flapping was followed by a squawk and the sound of someone hitting the hard, cold ground. It took more strength than I'd thought to turn my head, but in that moment it was worth it.

"You came back," I breathed, thankful that I was able to speak, watching my puffed breath dissipate in the freezing air.

He waddled up to me, expression sorrowful, and cupped my cheek in a wing as he whispered, "I said I would."

I smiled with what was left of my strength and felt a darkness creeping into the edges of my mind, vision slowly blurring.

I didn't care.

In that moment, we read each other, our eyes bearing our souls. He didn't know if he loved me or not, but what he felt frightened him. He was afraid of what we could be. He was afraid of how it could end.

I didn't blame him.

"Zeng, I-" he cut me off with a soft wing against my mouth.

"Don't. If there is another side, tell me there. If there isn't, I already know. I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I love you, so when you get to the other side, wait for me. I'll meet you there, in time. I promise," he murmured.

A promise. That was all I had. Not a pledge of love, or of happiness. Not a wedding vow, not the sound of little adopted feet scurrying around a farm. Just a promise to meet again, and yet, as I felt my lungs expand and contract for the last time, I knew it was enough. After all, I had committed a crime, unutterable hatred toward one so pure, and I had to take the punishment in stride.

There wasn't much after, though something pulled me toward a warm light. It tempted me to follow, but I knew I had to wait. There wasn't much to hold onto. Nothing existed within the void. I was a bodiless, shapeless soul, so I had no hands to grasp anything with, anyway, but I was and am able to wait. I will hold onto my one truth, his sacred promise that we will meet again, and I will wait for him.


End file.
